


Stuff of Legends

by atticboygenius



Series: Doctor Who: Rose Rewrites [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Wolf Rose Tyler, Eleventh Doctor Era, Episode Fix-It: s04e13 Journey's End, Episode Rewrite: s04e12 The Stolen Earth, Episode: s02e13 Doomsday, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Moffat Era Rewrite, Morning Sickness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pregnancy, Russell T. Davies Era, Season/Series 05, Season/Series 06, Season/Series 07, Season/Series 08, Season/Series 09, Season/Series 10, Series 10 Rewrite, Series 9 Rewrite, Steven Moffat Era, Telepathic Bond, Tenth Doctor Era, Twelfth Doctor Era, Violence, no beta we die like men, series 5 rewrite, series 6 rewrite, series 7 rewrite, series 8 rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2020-11-24 20:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atticboygenius/pseuds/atticboygenius
Summary: — There's no words spoken between them, just memories of good days and bad days, and yearning for the should-be days.Except now there's no more yearning; no more begging for the lost time between them to be rewritten; no more endless pacing in the TARDIS or settling down with a normal life because of the lack of each other's presence. The Doctor showed her something so much more than she expected from her life on the council estate - she takes it by the hand and runs with it, as she does with him:Every new face of the Doctor, every new life that touches their hearts, every world-saving adventure is theirs together. But so is every loss, every heartbreak, every incredulous situation that they are put through that would not be possible if she had not met him at Henriks and said yes. But she doesn't regret saying yes, not one bit. Because he's the Doctor, and she's Rose Tyler. They run with stars in their eyes and love in their hearts together.Through and through, the stuff of legends.[Moffat era rewrite featuring a couple of Davies episodes for consistency and plot reasons][ON HIATUS]





	1. Chapter I - Doomsday

"Where are you?" Rose asks a little too quickly as soon as the ghostly image of the Doctor makes his way into the world (into her world, she notes. Its just them two now, no-one else, always has been). She knows exactly where he is, the TARDIS, she can sense the warm feeling of the ship even universes apart but she doesn't think to question it. She forgets to open her mouth to take back the question but when she hears his voice she supposes she's glad she didn't.

"Inside the TARDIS," the Doctor says matter-of-factly, he avoids Rose's gaze before he can't anymore. His pink and yellow human, right there in front of him. And yet, not there at all.  
  
"There's one tiny little gap in the Universe left," he continues, and Rose's breath hitches (this is it, she thinks, I'm going home), "just about to close, and it takes a lot of power to send this projection. I'm in orbit around a super nova."

She smiles at this, and he smiles back. Going to absolute lengths for Rose Tyler, who else would dare?

"I'm burning up a sun just to say goodbye".

And suddenly everything crumbles around her, and the worlds a lot smaller than she's used to seeing it. The world hasn't felt this small since she was 19, since before she met the Doctor - all leather and ears, and hopeful grins.

"You look like a ghost," she says and the Doctor feels winded. Deep down he knows she's putting it off, burying what she needs to say for later like they have all the time in the world.

They don't.

"Hold on," he replies and Rose is patient. For him, she always has been.

He takes a gander at his screwdriver, adjusting the setting before focusing it, seemingly, towards her. It takes a moment before it's right and the image solidifies before her. She's tempted now to run forward and hold him like the worlds ending, like they did once long ago, and for her it already has. Rose holds a hand in front of herself, for him to grab and run away with or for her to caress his cheek and reach up on her tiptoes to kiss him she doesn't really know. She'll figure it out later, Rose decides.

"Can I?"

His hearts breaks. For her. For him. For the both of them and the world they'd made together that they have to leave behind.

"I'm still just an image," he reminds regretfully, "no touch."

"Can't you come through properly?"

"The whole thing would fracture. Two universes would collapse."

"So?"

It was ever so Rose, her universe had collapsed in front of her so what was the point? What was a world but the person in front of her? The hollow laugh they share is ever so mindful of the predicament, how they would do anything for each other but not this. Never this. They stare into each other for just a little too long, and Rose could stay like that forever, but the Doctor knows times running out.  
  
"Where are we? Where did the gap come out?" He asks, an attempt at small talk as he finally takes in the view.   
  
"We're in Norway," she replies. She smiles too, tongue between teeth. It maybe doesn't size up to the Doctor burning a sun to say goodbye, but travelling all the way to Norway on a hunch for the Doctor would have to do. She could do better, she thinks. She has done better, she thinks again to Bad Wolf. But separated by universes there's nothing more she _could _do, and Rose supposes that it's okay - for now. She won't settle for it, of course, she's already started training with Torchwood. 

"Norway, right."  
  
"About fifty miles out of Burgen," she says, composing herself, "It's called Därlig Ulv Stranden."  
  
"Dalek?" He responds and Rose can sense the panic, she wants to laugh but the wound is fresh and its much too soon.   
  
"Darlig," she responds, correcting the pronunciation, calming his nerves, "It's Norweigan for bad."  
  
The Doctor can sense where its going, but he doesn't interrupt. He doesn't dare interrupt.   
  
"This translates as Bad Wolf Bay."   
  
There's no words spoken between them, just memories of good days and bad days, and yearning for the should-be days. The Doctor's quiet, Rose notes, and she pieces it together. She never could get the Doctor to shut up if she could help it, it was never him. Observing the world, always, but his mouth would run at the sign of something wrong, at a fact to be shared, to simply just talk and be as he is with Rose Tyler. But now,he stands still, and he takes in all of her. If this is his last moments he wants to ingrain Rose in his memory. Everything about her. Although, he supposes, he never could forget her. He wouldn't dare.   
  
We're lost for time, Rose thinks, he's taking all of me in because our times running out. But she can't settle for silence. Not now.   
  
"How long have we got?" She asks abruptly, and the Doctor stiffens.   
  
"About two minutes," he says regretfully, watching as Rose messes with her hair in a moment of uncertainty. She needs something to do, and her hands can't touch him so she settles for fiddling with her hair, aching as she realises she'll never fiddle with his ever again. No more delicate fingers brushing through spiked hair.  
  
"I can't think of what to say."  
  
The Doctor offers a breathy laughter. Me too, he thinks, unspoken words left between them.   
  
"You still got Mr Mickey then," he says pointing to her family watching from afar with a nod of his head, spectators of a love affair.   
  
"There's five of us now," Rose says, and the Doctor nods. Jake's still here, and just as quickly as thoughts appear they're confirmed - in a way.   
  
"Well, six if you count Jake. He's one of us."  
  
"Are you and him?"   
  
Rose wants to kill him for even suggesting the possibility.   
  
"Absolutely not," she says with her signature smile, "him and Mickey. They're good. They're good for each other, I worked things out with Mickey, and we're good too."  
  
"That's good," the Doctor says, wrinkles at his eyes as he smiles. Not what he expected, but if they're happy over there then there's not much else he can do. "I'm happy for you. But you said-"  
  
"Five of us, yeah. Me, Mum, Dad, Mickey, and the baby."  
  
"You're not?" He gapes.  
  
Rose considers it. What's one more fracture in the universe? But when the Doctor said goodbye and she felt her world crashing through, she couldn't. She wouldn't risk the lives of billions others just for her happy ending. Their happy ending, she corrects her thoughts, placing a hand to her stomach while the Doctor isn't looking.   
  
"No," she lies, "It's mum. She's three months gone, more Tylers on the way."   
  
"And what about you? Are you-"  
  
"Yeah, back working in the shop."   
  
Henriks over here, the Doctor assumes, and he reminisces over the beginning of a story, _their_ story.   
  
"Good for you," he says, and he means it. Back to the beginning, new fresh start in a different universe, back to feeling like everything's okay and normal. But it's not. Nothings ever normal after meeting the Doctor, seeing the world in different ways and seeing different worlds for that matter. And nothing could ever be okay, not after all this and all they've been through.   
  
"Shut up, no I'm not. See the Torchwood on this planets open for business, think I know a thing or two about aliens."  
  
And this it, the Doctor thinks, and he's ready to embrace and whirl her round like he did on the grated floor of the TARDIS. The stuff of legends, he bites back, that's them. That's Rose, that's his girl. That's his wonderful pink and yellow shop girl from the estates, who said goodbye to the Earth when no-one else would. And here she is, defending it.   
  
"Rose Tyler," the Doctor beams, hearts full of warmth and love and pride for someone who has come so far and helped him so much, "Defender of the Earth!"  
  
And she wants to smile, wants to cherish their last moments, but its impossible, she finds. How could she, when she's literally counting down the time, knowing there's not much of it left. There never has been, she realises ("You wither and you die," he said, "Imagine watching that happen to some you-").  
  
"You're dead, officially, back home," he starts, and Rose shakes her head. So much for the cheeriness. This is the story of how I die, then. Shop girl, 20s, never did much with her life. Not much that the world could see anyway, but she did it. And that's what matters. "So many people died that day and you'd gone missing. You're on the list of the dead."  
  
"But here you are," he continues, and she sobs, hand over mouth, "living a life day after day. One adventure I could never have."   
  
"Am I ever gonna see you again?" She asks, with everything she has, but she knows the answer. This was a goodbye message from the start, why would that change?   
  
"You can't," he answers, with everything he has, and it breaks his hearts.   
  
"What are you going to do?"  
  
Without you, he thinks, I don't know.   
  
"Oh, I've got the TARDIS. Same old life, last of the Time Lords."  
  
"On your own?" She asks. Not on his own, she could never bear to watch him alone. He shouldn't be alone, especially not now.   
  
There's a pause before he nods, because who else?  
  
There's me, she wants to say, and there always will be. But she can't. A part of him, but never truly there. Not anymore. She struggles to find her next words, wanting to leave him with words of comfort as she realises the end draws near for them. 

.

.

.

.

  
"I love you."  
  
"Quite right too, and I suppose, if it's my last chance to say it? Rose Tyler-"


	2. Chapter II - Dimension Cannon

"I've been thinking of a name," Rose says, resigned to putting her feet up for the first time today, she would never stop working at it - not for one second. Stuff of Legends, that's her. She presses a hand to her stomach and it all floods back to her, doing the exact same move when the Doctor wasn't looking all those months ago on Bad Wolf Bay, but she bites back a sob and revels in the slight kick she's offered. "Had one in mind for a while really,"

"Yeah?" Mickey nods with a beaming smile, taking a seat next to her and huffing out of exhaustion. He joins her, pressing his hand about, but he's not offered the same kick and he heaves out a gruff sigh. "What will it be called?" He asks and Rose almost wacks him.   
  
"He, Mickey, not it. Blimey!"  
  
"Sorry," he apologises and Rose just shakes her head with the biggest grin in the world, "never was good in dealing with aliens."  
  
Pete's there too, and he joins in for the first time since they managed to get Rose settled. "I bet you weren't," he jokes, stood stiff with hands in pockets, and Rose adds him to the list of people she needs to give a good smack.   
  
"Oi! Saved your life he did," she defends, recalling back to the adventure and heartache of the parallel universe and Cybus Industries and how, _somehow, _ they're back in the same position. Will they always end up here? She thinks, but pushes the thought aside for later. When she's alone. "I don't know," she draws out, teasing Mickey lightly, "maybe saved the world a couple times too."  
  
"Something only an idiot would know!"  
  
"You're my favourite idiot," she says to him, tongue between teeth as she leans on him, "and for that-"  
  
"I'm your favourite idiot?" He asks, and Rose lifts her head to glare at him.  
  
"Oh shut up!" She smiles, the glare not lasting too long, not for Mickey, instead she continues, "and for that his name will be Anthony Michael Samuel Tyler."  
  
"Anthony," Pete nods and bounces on the balls of his feet, not bad. "Nice name. Little Tony Tyler."  
  
"Michael too," Mickey takes pride in that, "but what about Samuel? Whats that for? Just 'cause you fancied it 'n it sounds nice, or?"  
  
"Oh I don't know," Rose hums, nodding to the blue jacket and dimension cannon that she adorned back on Canary Wharf that stays hung up on the hat and coat stand in the corner, a reminder of bad days to keep her motivated for the good days she's willing to come. "Worse day of my life, had some perks to it I guess." 

* * *

The next morning, Rose is leaning against the toilet, head on the bowl and Jackies at her side as she moves strands of hair out the way. Jackie huffs beside her, residing on her knees next to her daughter. One hand keeping the hair way, the other rubbing her back up and down. Rose is thankful, more than thankful actually, she doesn't know where she'd be without her mum.   
  
"You're a bit unlucky," she comments, and Rose just rolls her eyes.  
  
"Gee, thanks, mum."  
  
"No, I mean, third trimester and you're still hitting with the morning sickness."  
  
"Yeah," Rose says, cheek back on the rim as she takes a moment to breathe, "carrying a half time lord would do that to you I think."  
  
"I suppose," Jackie says, pressing a motherly kiss to her daughters forehead, "You got this, love. Not long now."  
  
"I got _you_," she bites back but with all love and no edge to her tone, and she pleads,"don't go anywhere, please. I need you, mum."   
  
And it forces Jackie to take a step back. It forces her to look at every time Rose ever needed her. The first year after Jackie tells her the story of Pete's death, to the day, she's knocking on Jackie's door with a roughed up teddy bear and begging to sleep in her room with her and how they're missing a piece of the puzzle and yet still manage to fit together in each others arms; the first time she falls over and bleeds cause she got just a bit too adventurous in the park and Jackie's there with baby wipes that she knew she'd need because Rose always manages to get herself muddy; her first fail in a school exam and everything gets a bit too overwhelming so she sits on the rundown couch with Jackie watching reruns of DuckTales episodes from years ago with their cat Puffin kneading her on her lap; when everything with Jimmy Stone ends in nothing but tears and debt and Jackie doesn't say "I told you so", she just holds her like she's the absolute world and nothing could ever harm her again.   
  
But the world is damaged and sometimes you have to let go. And Jackie knows when this all ends that it's going to be so hard letting her daughter go, because if this all works out it's Rose and the Doctor in the TARDIS as it should be. And she could kill that man sometimes, but she'll be damned if she's going to sit around and let Rose's adventure end in tears again, even if the puzzle loses one of its pieces.   
  
So she starts helping out, at Torchwood, biting back when Rose isn't there to. "Like mother, like daughter," Pete tells her, and she laughs. "It's a Tyler thing," she says when the days near its end and she finds herself finishing up at Torchwood until tomorrow. "What is?" He asks. "Not giving up," she replies.   


* * *

  
Months later, and Anthony Michael Samuel Tyler is welcomed to the world. "Little Tony Tyler," Rose says, mirroring Pete's words from all those months ago, and she smiles at the newborn in her arms. "No offence, boys," she grins at them, "you're good but, couldn't have done it without my mum."   
  
"None taken," Mickey huffs out, sitting on the chair beside her, fingers intertwined with Jake, sitting on the arm of the chair, who Rose had made it known that he was as much a part of the family now as the rest of them, "the name makes up for it."  
  
"Shame you couldn't fit Jake in there," Jake jokes, "not too late is it?"  
  
"Afraid so," Rose hums, "decided the name ages ago, should've gotten with Mickey sooner, Jakey."  
  
"You're telling me," he replies, and Mickey looks at him like he holds the stars. If Rickey was most wanted for parking tickets, Jake must've been most wanted for stealing hearts. Pretty sure that's a crime.   
  
It's not long before all Hell breaks loose, and Pete questions when the baby will be taken in.   
  
"For what?" Rose barks.  
  
"Well, half Time Lord. Not entirely sure about the details but that's got to be good for something, yeah?"  
  
"He's good for something," Rose says, inhaling to calm her nerves, "because he's my son, he's your grandson. That should be enough."  
  
"He's not my grandson," Pete says blankly, "because you're not my daughter."  
  
And everything goes quiet, until someone cries out and Rose is ready to hush Tony soothingly until she realises its her mum. The ringing in her ears stop and she tunes back into the conversation. Her attentions pulled to the left when Jake offers to leave but Rose insists for them to stay and stifle the awkwardness.   
  
"Get out," Jackie says bitterly, and Rose pulls her in with a desperate "_Mum"._  
  
"No, sweet'art," she refuses, turning back to Pete, "Get out. I know you're all about experiments and what haves you, but you're not doing anything to our_ \- my -_ grandson. He's only just been born for Christ's sake. You're sleeping on the couch tonight."  
  
"It's my house," he says.  
  
"You say that like it's only thing that matters right now, well let me tell you, it's not. The most important thing right now, that ever has been and ever will be, is my daughter. You come to your senses and realise that, because I've gone twenty odd years without you. I think I can handle a few more. So get out."   
  
Rose watches her dad, her- _Pete Tyler_, leave without a word just an apologetic look and a gulp as he trembles before Jackie Tyler. Yeah, she thinks, makes sense. Before long, she's pleading for her mum again and Jackie is at her side immediately hushing a crying newborn as Rose has no idea how to do any of this.   
  


* * *

  
It's when Tony starts walking and Jackie has a camera out to capture everything that Rose realises how much she misses Pete.  
  
She doesn't call him dad, not anymore, hasn't done since the at-home birth of Tony and the walk out that's imprinted in her mind but she finds herself slipping during her training for the dimension cannon jump when he panics and argues that she can't do this. "No," she says, "I have to dad. Pete. Because no one here knows the Doctor better than me."   
  
"But you can't leave, its dangerous. You're a mum now."   
  
"I'm not just a mum," she argues, no matter how much she wants for him to say that she can't go because it's dangerous and he doesn't want his daughter to get hurt (but she settles for this, because she knows she's not going to get anything better), "I'm a Tyler. And the thing about Tylers is we don't give up."   
  
"Who knew," Pete jokes, but Rose is having none of it.   
  
"So I'm going. I've been working towards this for a year now. I've been planning for this since I stood in that empty Torchwood corridor and waited five and a half hours against a wall leaving my entire world behind me."  
  
"Five and a half hours?" He questions, putting the equipment aside.  
  
"Yeah," she smiles, "Doctor always told me to wait five and a half hours."  
  
"Didn't work out, though."  
  
"Maybe not," she tucks her chin back with a smile, "but it gave me the chance to think it all up."   
  
"Yeah. Suppose so. Back to work."   
  
And Rose does exactly that, she's not happy about how the conversation ends but she deals with it to focus on her work. He's come to his senses now, utterly defeated about the mistakes he made and he apologised for it not to long after the incident actually happened in a dim lighten bedroom with a cup of tea. But there's still no recognition of being her dad, ("because that job belonged to your Pete Tyler" he'd argued) and Rose doesn't think there ever will be.   
  
Training ends and Rose finds herself in the car with Mickey, she dumps her gear in the boot and shoves herself in the backseat leaning against the Jake-filled passenger seat in front of her. "So how's the Godparents?" She asks them and she's met with a wave of worry.   
  
"Right, out with it," Mickey turns before starting the car, "what's up?"  
  
She rolls her eyes. "It's Pete."  
  
"It's just us," Jake calms her, "you can call him dad. If you want."  
  
"No, he doesn't want me to. And I might slip up and call him dad, but ultimately he doesn't want me to and I have to respect that."  
  
"No, yeah, I get that," Mickey sympathises.   
  
"I just want him to call me his daughter."  
  
"You heard Jackie that night that," Jake interrupts, and Rose calls back to the ringing in her eyes and the awkwardness of the couple beside her. "She raised you for twenty years, she can do it-"  
  
"For a few more years," Rose finishes, "Yeah, I know. And I'm so grateful for my mum, always have been and always will be. Started buying Father's Day cards for her with my savings when I was little. Not like, any pocket money she gave me or anything. But if there was any, yknow, loose change on the floor around the estate I wouldn't hesitate to pick it up and put it in my piggy bank for cards and gifts for Mother's Day and Father's Day."  
  
"You were never obligated to give her something back, she's your mum."  
  
"Yeah, but. I love her," she sobs, "I'd be lost without her. And back to the basics of this, I'm grateful for all she's done for me. For taking that leap of faith and playing into both roles but you can't help but feel that you're just missing something. And this world, this parallel universe, was a second chance at that. I mean, how crazy, how coincidental that we're both missing something in our lives - he's someone I never knew but always loved and I'm someone he always wanted but never knew. It fits perfectly and yet-"  
  
"And yet it's just not happening," Mickey finishes regretfully.   
  
"Yeah. And I hate that. I want it to work so bad. But I have to respect what he wants."   
  
She sits back, fastening her seat-belt hastily and resting her head against the window, feeling the vibrations as Mickey starts to drive.   
  
"Turn the radio on." It's not a demand, it's a plead. And Mickey does, and Rose wants to bash her skull against the window at what plays: Butterfly Kisses, by Bob Carlisle, but she settles for letting the tune drill in her head, and resigns herself to a well deserved nap.  
  
_'There's two things I know for sure_  
_She was sent here from heaven_  
_And she's daddy's little girl'_  
  


* * *

__  
She's stood in the same Torchwood room from two years ago and everything falls apart.   
  
This is where everything began in this universe for her and its where everything ends. She warns Jake to take care of Mickey, and offers him a hug that insists she never wants to let go. She tells him she's sorry one last time when Mickey forgave her ages ago. She ushers a tired and scared young Tony to his Godparents and Mickey and Jake hold him like he's everything they've got. She holds a much larger Tony to her chest before she does this and presses a kiss to his forehead. "Mummy loves you," she says, "so much."  
  
"If this all go pear-shaped, Mickey," she begins, restlessly.  
  
"I'll tell him about you. Starry eyed mother in the stars, nothing changes."  
  
"Never has, never will. I'll be damned before that day arrives."  
  
"You're telling me."  
  
"I'm glad he's young," Rose smiles but there's no joy behind it, "he won't understand. And I've not been great at this mother-business, never thought I would be, but you guys helped. A lot. And my mum," she says, holding her hand out for Jackie to take and releasing a breath when she does so, "I need you one more time."  
  
"Of course, sweet'art."  
  
Rose pulls her to the side and there's no words, not yet, she just pulls her in. There's no sound anymore, no friends in the background stifling their tears, no Pete shouting about orders, just Jackie and Rose Tyler, the two of them. As it always has been. It's time to let go, bird taking flight from the nest. Rose breaks the silence and Jackie sobs.   
  
"I never said this the first time but, I'm going to miss you. So much."  
  
"I would hope so! I'm going to miss you too, baby."  
  
"I never got to thank you. For everything you did for me."  
  
"You don't need to, darlin', I was just being a good mum."  
  
"You were the best. So," she says, opening her bag and she digs around the gear she'll be taking with her for something so much more important, "here you are."  
  
"Oh Rose," she says, taking hold of it and enduring a mixture of pride and grief blossoming in the pits of her stomach. Two cards, Mothers and Fathers day, and she holds them close to her chest with one hand and embraces Rose with another and buries her face in the crook of her neck as she takes in the smell of her daughter one last time. Custard creams.   
  
"Take care of Tony for me."  
  
"Anything for you sweet'art."  
  
"And those idiots over there," nodding to Mickey and Jake, mouth pressed into a firm line to bite back the tears swelling up. Rose Tyler, always biting back.   
  
"'Course baby."  
  
"And most importantly, yourself. I love you."  
  
She steps back, she lets go, because she knows she can't stay in that position forever no matter how she would give for her mother to hold her for longer.   
  
"Be careful."  
  
Rose shares a look with Pete, there's a once over with her gear and certainty that the ear piece works before he nods, offering her a pat on the back. "Are you ready?" He asks.  
  
"Always," she replies, and she takes the leap of faith. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter @royallingstones  
tumblr @missrosemariontyler  
^^ go yell at me 
> 
> yeah this chapter is v much......episodic? abt the whole doomsday -> dimension cannon dealio BUT i have had planned a side series of rose in the parallel universe that would very much connect to this one and showcases certain things in detail yknow? anyway hope u enjoyed this mess of a chapter. stolen earth is next :3c


	3. Chapter III - Stolen Earth, Part One

"It's fine," the Doctor says matter-of-factly, "everything's fine. Nothing's wrong, all fine."  
  
They're in a neighbourhood now, on a quiet morning, with no passing cars and a fed-up milkman going about his usual work from door to door. It's too quiet, the Doctor thinks, too normal, and he spins to try and catch anything out of the ordinary. He juts his chin out at the sign of the bystander, fingers restlessly wiggling beside him. "Excuse me," he asks, drawing the attention of the milkman, "what day is it?"

The milkman looks at him as if he's grown another head, and the Doctor, for one, goes to check. It wouldn't surprise him, something had to have gone wrong. "Saturday," he says quite confidently with a nod of his head. "Saturday," the Doctor repeats, nodding back a thanks, "good. I like Saturdays."

Donna immediately pulls him back in, just like she always does. He doesn't know where he'd be without Donna. She grabs his attention with words of utter shock and confusion, a mixture of _bloody hell _and _what the hell just happened?_ "So," she begins with a furrow of her brow, "I just met Rose Tyler?"

"Yeah," the Doctor replies, with a mixture of fear and love swelling in his words.

"But she's locked away in a parallel world," she states, and the Doctor nods and allows his fiddling fingers at his side brush through his spiked hair. Rose used to do that, he mourns.

"Exactly," he replies, "If she can cross from her parallel world to your parallel world, then that means the walls of the universe are breaking down which puts everything in danger."

Donna just blinks and her heart aches.

"Everything," he finishes, "but how?"

He sprints back to the TARDIS, Donna quick on his heels. Everything starts to shake, and the world, literally, starts crashing down. Tiles fall off roofs, milk bottles shake and fall over and smash and what it contains is spilt everywhere, and the world becomes just a little damaged - and the Doctor and Donna have left it all behind. "The thing is, Doctor," Donna says, catching up with him as he works away on the console. He doesn't know where to put his hands, so Donna just holds one with all the tenderness she can muster while his brain buzzes endlessly. "No matter what's happening, and I'm sure it's bad, I get that but, Rose is coming back."

The Doctor stares into nothingness.

"Isn't that good?"

And then he stares at Donna, and a smile can't help but creep up and plaster amongst his lips.

"Yeah," he says, grinning, and the world is whole again.  
  
Until its not, and the Tardis shakes and there's a banging noise and the Doctor and Donna have to hold onto the console with everything they've got. "What the hell's that!" Donna barks, and for once the Doctor doesn't have an answer. "I don't know," he says honestly, but pulls himself up and brushes himself off before he bounces to the doorway. "It came from outside."  
  
He opens the door and Donna's mouth is left agape.   
  
"But we're in space. How did that happen? What did you do?"  
  
The Doctor bounces back to the console, and he finds its a race between the door and the centre now, constantly back and forth. He fiddles with the screen, eyes examining the scanner readings. He's left stiff, and Donna's more scared than anything. "We haven't moved," he says, "we're fixed. It can't have. No."  
  
Donna cocks her head to the side, encouraging him to continue, she's not entirely sure she understands.   
  
"The TARDIS is still in the same place," he explains, "but the Earth is gone. The entire planet. It's gone."  
  
And Donna's heart begins to race at the possibilities. 

* * *

Martha's lying in a fetal position on the upper floor of a skyscraper elsewhere in the universe. There's destruction and chaos all around her, but she holds her own.   
  
"Give me a Sit Rep right now," a voice elsewhere musters, a generic UNIT soldier whose voice is all determination and no fear but Martha knows that considering the circumstances its anything but , "confirm all stations still online. Can anyone hear me? Have we got contact with UNIT base Geneva?"  
  
"What was that?" Martha asks, but she's already begun to piece everything together.   
  
"Emergency systems online," another one announces.   
  
"Was it some sort of earthquake?" She queries, but to no avail from the superiors around her, "or? Jalandra, you all right?"  
  
"Start the back up generators. Get the unisystem operational. Come on, do it fast."  
  
"Yeah," a man, Jalandra, answers Martha, and she thanks the stars that at least one of her questions was answered - she hates not knowing, "I'm okay." She gives him a once over and nods, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance but she finds herself holding the weight of everything on her shoulders yet again. "Is anyone hurt?" She shouts out, trekking across the chaotic room and treading over piles of work and fallen furniture and waking bodies till she reaches a colleague who finds herself pulled to the window and the outside world.   
  
"We've lost power, someone get the lights back on," Martha orders, and she feels a little more like herself, "DaCosta, see to it right now."  
  
She finds herself watching her colleague step further and further away like an external force is willing her. "Suzanne? Are you okay?" She asks.   
  
She's looking out the window and Martha's terrified to discover what might be out there, and she steps over to join her.   
  
"Martha, look at the sky," Suzanne says, and Martha tries to distract her with the sticky notes she's been leaving on her desk while she's been working away. She holds her hand and pulls her to the desk and shows her the notes saying "want to get coffee?" and "I cleaned up your desk for you" and Suzanne always knows who leaves them, and shes always thankful, except this time her attentions drawn to the window. That hasn't changed and Martha takes a step back to ask why. "Why, what is it?"   
  
Suzanne gulps, and Martha tightens her grip on her hand to ground her, bring her back to her, but to no avail.   
  
"Just look at the sky."

* * *

"What happened?" Asks Jack, brushing himself off from the dust and crumbling concrete, and his first concern is Ianto and Gwen. "Was it the rift?" He queries, and Gwen considers it as she gets herself up on her own with ease, its plausible. "Gwen? Ianto? You okay?"  
  
"No broken bones," Ianto says, offering Jack a discomfiting smile, "slight loss of dignity. No change there then."   
  
"The whole city must've felt that," Gwen realises, "the whole of South Wales."  
  
"I'm going to take a look outside," Jack muses, and Ianto offers a nod indicating for him to be safe, before his attentions pulled to a computer screen that Ianto fiddles with to activate. He turns to Gwen after a moment and she tuts as if to say _what now? _  
  
"Little bit bigger than South Wales."

* * *

All concern for herself goes out the window when Sarah Jane sees Luke sprawled across the floor amongst the array of furniture and broken artifacts.

"Luke?" She pleads, praying he's okay and nothing more, "are you alright?"

He picks himself up and she presses a tender kiss to his forehead. "Felt like some sort of cross-dimension spatial transference," he offers and Sarah Jane shakes her head with a smile on her face. That's her son, she thinks. "But it's night," she says, not entirely sure what Luke means, "it wasn't night. It was eight o'clock in the morning."

Luke goes to open his mouth and answer her question before she turns away and stands before a jutted out wall of brick. "Mr Smith," she calls, "I need you."

"Can you just stop giving that fanfare?" She demands when the wall opens up in a grand gesture to reveal what seems to be a supercomputer, buttons and levers that the kids she's taken under her wing just can't help but press adorned over it. "Just...tell me what happened?"

"Sarah Jane," a voice says, and its normal-sounding, albeit stiff, "I think you should look outside. I think you'll find the visual evidence most conclusive.

* * *

"Everything okay back there?" A voice calls, chirpy and upbeat, as she struggles to land her ship. She hasn't gotten used to it yet, but she will. "Just peachy!" Another replies, picking himself up and aching all over from the terrible landed and the shift they both feel. "I think I've found the place," she realises, "and time."

"What, your dad? Which face?"

"Most recent, I think," she considers, turning to her friend and passenger, "might've caught up with him now, meeting in the right order. If not, I'll find him again when the times right." The other nods in return, lips formed firmly into a line as he rustles through his bag checking over for certain gear. She calls his name, "Noah," she says, and he takes her all in. Blonde hair tied up into a tight ponytail, and gleeful smile. He's seen the pictures, and Noah tilts his head to the side only a touch as he realises how much she looks like certain faces of her dad. What a weird life he leads, Jenny more so.

"Noah? Meet you outside! Grab your gear and come on!"

He shakes it off, and clumsily grabs his gear, sticking the strap of his bag over his shoulder as he trips over himself to catch up with her and hastily shouts back, "I'm coming! I'm coming!"

* * *

"It's gone dark," Wilf realises, "it's them aliens."

Sylvia just rolls her eyes, but follows him as he looks for something to defend himself with. "I'll bet my pension on it," he rambles, "what do you want this time, you green swine?"

"Dad," Sylvia pleads, as he brandishes his cricket bat, ordering him to calm himself before his heart gives way, but she can't help but add to the panic when her attentions drawn elsewhere.

"Look," he begins, fussing over his daughter, "you get back inside, Sylvia. They always want the women."

"No, Dad," she says, and its not standing her ground and rebelling against his request, but its pulling his attention to the much, much larger problem at hand. "Just look. Oh my God, look at the sky.

* * *

"That's impossible," Sarah Jane says in her home in Ealing, and Luke holds her hand with all the love in the world.

"That's just impossible," Jack denies outside the Torchwood base at Roald Dahl Plass, and no-ones with him to hold his hand.

"It can't be," Martha considers quizzically in the chaotic skyscraper in New York, grabbing the nearest hand to her. It's Suzanne's she realises, and shes ever so thankful.

"But that's impossible," Jenny says, sure of herself. She's seen a lot of things in her short little lifetime, but nothing like this. "You've seen the entire universe," Noah says, focusing on putting his fingerless gloves on as he steps down from the ship, so he's not exactly aware of the horror at hand, "what could be impossible now?"

"Not the whole universe," she corrects with ease, "not yet. Still more to explore! But I'd say...that."

Jenny nods to the sky, and Noah's mouth falls open. He's seen it all now, he thinks.

* * *

Back on the street where it all began, the milkman turns to see a woman burst into existence in a fit of light. She's brandishing a large gun, and powers it up as she casts her gaze to the midnight sky. She's been to other worlds and seen dying people and dying stars and dying planets, but nothing ever to the scale of this.   
  
"Right," she says, cocking the gun, "it's only just beginning."   
  
There's no light, there's no stars. Planets in close proximity, and Rose is grounded by the danger of the situation, but she can't help but feel she's at home. 

* * *

"But if the Earth's been moved," Donna contemplates back on the TARDIS, the possibilities racing through her mind just seem to multiply by the second at every new question she finds she needs to answer. "They've lost the sun," she realises, "what about my mum? And granddad?"  
  
The Doctor is pained as he watches on, he dabbles with buttons on the console, and he thwacks the scanner for any faults, but his mind is always on Donna.   
  
"They're dead, aren't they?" She asks, and its almost without emotion because she doesn't know how to handle the sob catching in the back of her throat. "Are they dead?"  
  
"I don't know, Donna," he says truthfully, and it pains him to say that. He wants to give her an answer, he wants to give her a million answers to her millions of questions but in all honestly he doesn't know and he despises that, not knowing. "I just don't know. I'm sorry, I don't know."  
  
"That's my family. My whole world."  
  
He blinks and turns all of his attention back to the scanner, bashing the side one more time before tutting in exasperation, because his hearts ache when he hears her say that. It reminds him of Rose, mourning for the world when no one else did. And it reminds him of himself, he knows what its like to lose your whole world. And he prays that he can save it, because he doesn't wish that on his worst enemy. "There's no readings, nothing. Not a trace. Not even a whisper." Donna just comes to his side and slides her hand into his. He bathes in the tenderness.   
  
"Oh that is fearsome technology," he says, sparing the gesture a glance and offering a smile in thanks.  
  
"So what do we do?" She asks, what _can_ we do?  
  
"We've got to get help."  
  
"From where?"  
  
He lets go and holds her by her shoulder, squeezing them in reassurance. "Donna," he begins and she gulps, "I'm taking you to the Shadow Proclamation. Hold tight." 

* * *

"The United Nations has issued an edict," a voice on the television says as Ianto flicks through the channels. There's people speaking all professionally and his mind buzzes with boredom, but he holds on just a few seconds more to educate himself before finding a more entertaining channel. It was what was needed in a time like this. The voice continued, saying, "asking the citizens of the world not to panic. So far, there has been no explanation of the twenty six planets which have appeared in the sky."  
  
He presses the buttons of the remote control. Click.   
  
"But it's an empirical fact," says Richard Dawkins, more excited than anything, "the planets didn't come to us - we came to them. Just look at the stars! We're in a completely different region of space. We've travelled!"  
  
Click.   
  
"Do you know what," a third voice says, and Ianto puts down the remote control as he finds exactly what he was looking for. Paul O'Grady sits there, his hands distracted by the dog that lay on his desk, and speaks out the audience, "I look up and there's all these moons and things. Have you seen them?" He asks, "Did you see them?" The audience reply with a resounding "yeah" and Ianto finds himself nodding along with them.   
  
"I thought," O'Grady continues with a tut, "what was I drinking last night? Furniture polish?" And he laughs along with the studio audience, but is hushed up by Jack who offers him a glare. "Ianto," he says, lifting an eyebrow quizzically, "time and a place."   
  
"He is funny though," Ianto defends, turning it off, and forming his lips into a straight line.   
  
"Gwen, come and see."  
  
But Gwen's distracted on the phone, one hand tight around the mobile and the other fiddles through the strands of her hair. "Rhys, I have no idea," she argues into the phone, "just stay indoors. And can you phone my mother?" She asks, finding herself low on words and solutions. "Tell her, er, oh I don't know. Just tell her to take her pills and go to sleep. I'm going to come home as soon as I can, I promise."  
  
She pauses and she smiles.   
  
"I love you, you big idiot."  
  
And she hangs up, holding the mobile close to her chest. She catches up with Jack and Ianto, her attention focused on them now and the scanner in front of them.   
  
"Someone's established an artificial atmospheric shell," Jack notices, "keeping the air and holding in the heat."  
  
They're safe then, they note, for now.   
  
"Whoever's done this wants the human race alive. That's a plus. Twenty seven planets, including the Earth."  
  
The planets move in their orbit on the scanner, and they spare each other a look when they see a flashing red dot appear in the middle.   
  
"But what's that?" Gwen asks, pointing at it, "that's not a planet."

* * *

"The reading seems to be artificial in construction," the stiff voice of the Xylok explains.   
  
"Some sort of space station sitting in at the heart of the web."  
  
Luke reenters the attic, lifting his phone to indicate he's gotten in contact with his friends. "They're fine," he says, nodding, "Maria and her dad are tempted to join us but I told them to stay indoors, and Clyde's all right. He's with his mum."  
  
There's a pause, and Luke vents out his concern for his friends.   
  
"Don't suppose we could invite them over?" He asks, because he's scared too. And he's got his mum, he knows that, but Clyde and Maria are his best friends. He can't help but worry for their safety and realise that wherever he may be with Clyde and Maria, is home. And, he thinks in retrospect, its not been too long since he pulled the moon towards the Earth after being manipulated by Mr Smith and seeing all these planets being pulled shakes him to core.   
  
"No," she says regretfully, "they're with their parents." And Luke's heart aches, but it's fine, he thinks, because he's got his mum. Home is wherever Sarah Jane is. "Besides," she continues, "can't have more people knowing about this place."   
  
He nods, knowing she's right, but opens up to ask her further questions before his train of thought is interrupted by Mr Smith.   
  
"Sarah Jane," he says, "I have detected movement. Observe."  
  
"Spaceships?" Luke asks, mouth agape. This life never gets old. 

* * *

"Right, back in!" Jenny shouts, sparing the world a look as she breathes it all in, and she rounds up her one-member crew with a point of her finger. "What now?" Noah asks, rolling his eyes, always on the move.   
  
"If I know the Earth," she replies, "and I don't really know it much actually, but I do know this isn't right."  
  
"Doesn't take a scientist to know that this planets in the wrong region of space," Noah returns sarcastically, with a nod, making his way back into the show. They're swallowed by darkness, only the lights of the scanners and systems illuminating against them now.  
  
"Course not," she says, she knew that after all, "but what did it is the question. So you know..."  
  
"Oh!" Noah gasps as Jenny indicates towards the scanner with a nod of her head, hands on hips. "Scanner, of course."  
  
"Dumbo."  
  
"At your service."  
  
"Well, come on then! Who is it?"

* * *

The Army brass are taking control in Martha's region of the world, and she finishes checking over the injured when Sanchez, one of her superiors, salutes the team. "Tracking two hundred objects," he explains, "Earthbound trajectory. Geneva is calling a Code Red; everyone to battle positions." She pulls out her phone in attempt to contact the Doctor, and Sanchez nods her way.   
  
"Doctor Jones, if you're not too busy."  
  
"I'm trying to phone the Doctor, sir," she defends.   
  
"And?"  
  
"There's no signal. This number calls anywhere in the universe. It never breaks down. They must be blocking it," Martha contemplates, "whoever they are."   
  
"Well," Sanchez nods, and they're on their way. Martha offers a comforting nod and smile to Suzanne as she leaves, and the latter lifts her phone to remind her to call later. "We're about to find out. They're coming into orbit."

* * *

It's the end of the world.   
  
Rose's senses are overwhelmed with the smell of alcohol and chorus of windows being smashed to loot shops are ringing in her ear, and she can hear the sounds of tires squeaking against the pavement and a stampede of people living a life of chaos before she has even made her way out the Subway.   
  
"The end of the world darling," a drunk approaches her, and Rose is bombarded with memories that she'd rather forget, "end of the stinking world."  
  
She smiles and makes her way. "Have one on me, mate," she says, but contemplates it all. It can't be the end of the world, because Rose has seen that. She was the only one who said goodbye, hand in hand with the Doctor, so it can't all be erased. So, she deducts, whoever is doing this needs this planet and its people intact for now.  
  
She pats the weapon she adorns as an alarm sounds for another shop, and she recognises the place as one for computers and television. This could work, she thinks, and orders the burglars out.  
  
"Right, you two," she says, "You can put that stuff down or run for your lives."  
  
They share a look with each other, smirking before they continue, and Rose just rolls her eyes, pulling the gun in front of her and offering the two a smile.   
  
"Do you like my gun?"  
  
They share another look with each other, and then with Rose and the gun, and make a run for it. She takes a seat in front of all the heaps of broken glass before a screen that shows red dots approaching the Earth and her breath hitches. 

* * *

"We're now getting confirmed reports of spaceships," a news reporter from the BBC confirms on the television and Sylvia contemplates all that Wilf has been raging about. "The Pentagon has issued an emergy report saying that two hundred objects-"  
  
"Dad?" She shouts, "come and see." And she hears the footsteps of her dad coming her way as she continues to listen in to the news report.   
  
"-are now heading towards Earth in a regular pattern. Organised flightplan."  
  
"They're saying spaceships," she offers as he enters the room with a nod, phone in hand, "did you find her?"  
  
"No, no," he replies, "there's no reply."  
  
He looks up, and holds the phone close to his heart. For Donna, he thinks, praying she makes it home safe.  
  
"Where are you Donna?"  
  
The audio of the television drowns out his thoughts and he shares a glance with the reporter. "And stay indoors," it warns, and he tightens his grip around the phone.  
  
"Where are you sweetheart?"

* * *

Gwen keeps her eye on the scanner as the three dots move closer and closer, and her eyebrows furrow. "Three thousand miles and closing," she comments, "but who are they?"  
  
Jack goes to reply, he opens his mouth to answer truthfully that he doesn't know, but his words are cut short by the ringing of his mobile phone.   
  
"Martha Jones," he celebrates with a grin, "voice of a nightingale. Tell me you put something in my drink."  
  
"No such luck," she offers sadly, her voice coming through the mobile clearly as she prepares for another word with her superiors. "Have you heard from the Doctor?" She asks, and she tuts when she hears a regretful sigh leave Jack's lips.   
  
"Not a word. Where are you?"  
  
"New York," she replies, almost smug.   
  
"Ooh," he nods pleasantly, "nice for some."   
  
"I've been promoted," she says excitedly, "Medical Director on Project Indigo."  
  
"Did you get that thing working?" Jack asks and Martha's forced to take a step back. "Indigo's top secret," she questions, her voice a whisper, "no-ones supposed to know about it."   
  
Jack laughs. Well, he does.   
  
"I met a soldier in a bar," he explains, and she shakes her head in knowing, "long story." Ianto offers him a glare. "When was that?" He queries and Jack smiles back. "Strictly professional."  
  
"Fifteen hundred miles, boys," Gwen warns, grabbing their attention and the two flock to the scanner, "and accelerating. They're almost here." 

* * *

Luke watches as Sarah Jane paces the attic awaiting more news, and he leaves his hands by his side awkwardly as she stops and faces Mr Smith at the word of such.  
  
"I'm receiving a communication," Mr Smith says, and Luke hops down the stairs to stand by his mother's side once more, "from the Earthbound ships. They have a message for the human race."  
  
Sarah Jane stiffens, and Luke takes her hand again. "Put it through," she says, burying her fear, "let's hear it."  
  
Until she can't bury it anymore, and her throat closes up as she holds a sob in her throat. There are tears in her eyes and Luke panics - not because of the threat, but because of the fear instilled in his mother. He's never seen her like this before.  
  
"Exterminate, exterminate, exterminate," the voice chants, and Luke's left wondering what's gotten his mother so shaken.   
  
"You're so young," she says, and holds him closer than she's ever done before. 

* * *

"No," Jack begs as the chants continue. "Oh, God, no."   
  
"What is it?" Gwen asks, "who are they? Do you know them, Jack?"   
  
And yes, Jack wants to answer, yes he does. He knows them intimately, and all of a sudden he's back in the space station facing down the enemy, not looking back as he leaves the Doctor and Rose ready to usher out his last breath. For them, he thinks, and he's back in the Torchwood with Gwen and Ianto.   
  
He pulls them closer, presses a kiss to them both. For them, he thinks.   
  
"Exterminate," the chant continues, "exterminate."  
  
"There's nothing I can do," he apologises, "I'm sorry. We're dead."

* * *

"Detecting communication," Noah says, "spread everywhere. To everyone."  
  
Jenny bounces to the front of the ship, leaning on Noah's seat with a huff. "What world ending threat is it now?" She asks, and Noah allows the voice to come through.  
  
"Exterminate, exterminate, exterminate," it chants, and Jenny sobs and Noah has no idea what to do but take her hand in his.   
  
"What is it?" He presses, but not too harshly, he lets her take her time and shes ever so thankful. She smiles her gratitude and breathes. "I've heard stories," she explains, albeit vaguely.   
  
"About what? Who are they?"  
  
"I've heard stories of destruction and loss and all of it at those words. Masters of hatred."  
  
Her fingers intertwine with Noah's and they share a look. Who are they, he asks but never speaks, and she heaves out a sigh, overwhelmed with fear.   
  
"They're the daleks."  
  
She takes a seat and lashes her frustration out by kicking the deck but Noah calms her with a reassuring touch.   
  
"Consider yourself that you've never heard or met them," she says, smile gone, "because the human race is in so much danger."  
  
"Course we are," Noah jokes, attempting to make light of the situation.   
  
"I've never met one first hand but the stories are enough," she explains, thinking of her dad and praying he's far away from this. She can't imagine how he'll react. "Are you sure you don't want to back out? I can't promise you'll be safe."  
  
Noah considers it, but he pushes the fear of it all away. How much danger is she talking? Destruction, loss, masters of hatred, what are they capable of?   
  
"No," he says, no matter how much he wants to, because Jenny needs someone in a time like this, "I'm with you."  
  
"Okay," she replies, a hesitant smile perking up on her face.   
  
"If something happens, that's on me."  
  
Jenny disagrees, but she's not vocal about it. She simply offers Noah a glare and fixes her position in the seat, messing with the array of buttons and levers ready to leave.   
  
"Right, lift off then," she says, ignoring the discussion, "we're going to follow the ship."   
  
"Stealth mode?"  
  
"Stealth mode."

* * *

Rose leaves the shop in a hurry after hearing the chant, she's overwhelmed and she sees gold and stars for a minute and a headaches on its way but she ignores it. It's nothing but bad memories, she thinks, nothing more, and she bites back a sob after hearing "exterminate, exterminate, exterminate."  
  
She sees a massive ship flying overhead, bolting away as it fires at random. Rose cringes as she sees it pass through Big Ben, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. They'd only just manage to rebuild that, she'd discovered. She pulls the gun in front of her, and attempts to contact the Doctor but to no avail. She tries her only other hope, and makes her way, slipping between the shadows out of view of the daleks, to the Nobles family.   
  
"Come on Doctor," she pleads, "where are you?"

* * *

"Dalek fleet in battle formation."  
  
"All systems locked and primed."  
  
"Crucible at ninety percent efficiency."  
  
"The human harvest will commence." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember that comments and kudos keep me writing!! i tried to get this chapter out asap but i go back to college next week and have projects to do so part two may be delayed :(
> 
> hope u enjoyed the appearance from jenny xoxo  
ive not listened to her big finish or anything so idk how long noah stays with her or what his characters like so that was made up :/ 
> 
> and [points at suzanne] i will focus on minor characters and their relationships with major characters and you WILL care for them. literally i latch onto minor characters so much, jake simmonds is one of my favourites and i went out of my way to make a backstory for him (which you can view here if u want: https://docs.google.com/document/d/19W1jv7e9Kk0NY4OTiCXo0VaH1xAbVA-Up-2d0YjDzC4/edit#)


	4. Chapter III - Stolen Earth, Part Two

Martha decides this is a whole new level of bad when she runs hastily to a window, tripping over herself as the building shakes and glass is smashed littering the carpet floors, and notices the ships targeting the base with every ounce of destruction that they can muster. "Battle Stations!" A voice shouts, Sanchez she realises, as she's pulled back into the now. It almost calms her, the air of authority a sense of hope for her, and Martha knows all about hope.   
  
"Geneva declared Ultimate Code Red."   
  
Never mind, she thinks, at least for now. But they'll sort it, she'll sort it. Because she's Martha Jones and she's done it all before.   
  
"Ladies, and gentlemen, we are at war."  
  


* * *

  
Donna watches as the Doctor's hands fall from their place on her shoulders and presses a hand to her hips. "Go on then," she says, "what is the Shadow Proclamation anyway?" She’ll be unapologetically honest in not knowing, living a life of not-knowing does that to you, and there’s no point in being ashamed of it. Ask the awkward questions, be done with, skip the boring stuff while you’re at it.   
  
"Posh name for police," the Doctor answers, skipping all the boring stuff for once, face contorting to one of disgust and Donna laughs to herself, "outer space police. Here we go."   
  
He takes her hand with a smile and takes her in arms as they rush down the grated ramp. He snaps his fingers and they step out with ease, hands in the air as they are greeted by an armed platoon. Donna gives him a look of confusion, outer space police - that look like rhinos, as the Doctor aptly forgot to mention - in an ordinary looking corridor. She's seen it all now.   
  
The Judoon ready their weapons.   
  
"Sco bo tro no flo jo ko fo to to," they say and Donna doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. It sounds so silly, she thinks, but for all she knows they could be threatening them and she realises that the TARDIS translation hasn't kicked in. She looks to the Doctor and her thoughts are calmed as he nods. "No bo ho sho ko ro to so," he responds before his speech fastens, "bokodozogobofopojo."   
  
The Judoon stand to attention and the Doctor lowers his arms, Donna follows. "Moho," he says and they're escorted elsewhere. They're directed into another room and a silver-haired woman paces, the Architect before them, the tips of her fingers are pressed together in thought and the train of her black gown trails behind. She argues that Time Lords are the stuff of legend, that they belong in the myths and whispers of the higher species, that they cannot possibly exist. But that’s the point, he supposes, that he does. He’s rejecting his own society, he’s righting the wrongs in the universe, he exists. And he has a planet to save.   
  
"Yeah," the Doctor, says, lounging elsewhere, "more to the point! I've got a missing planet."   
  
The Architect scoffs, her pacing coming to a halt as she faces him, "then you're not as wise as the stories would say." She lifts her dress to be careful with her steps and approaches him with a jutted out chin. "The picture is far bigger than you imagine, the whole universe in outrage, Doctor," she says, unsure whether to consider him selfish or note if this is just a lapse of judgement - surely a Time Lord cannot have such a raw connection to Earth, "Twenty four worlds have been taken from the sky."   
  
(But the Doctor does)   
  
"How many?" He queries, "which ones? Show me."   
  
He bounces up immediately from where he was lounging to join her. They stride over to the tech in the centre, buttons are pressed and holograms zip into place. The Architect waves her hand about the place during her explanation, clasping them together as she goes on.   
  
"Locations range far and wide," the Architect explains, "but all disappeared at the exact same moment, leaving no trace."   
  
She continues but the Doctor doesn't listen, he presses through the selection of missing planets and his brain is currently an office notice board with pins putting in place the reasons why these planets may all be connected.   
  
"Callufrax Minorr, Jahoo, Shallacatop, Woman Wept, Clom."   
  
He pauses. Clom? And he mourns. He thinks back to Rose and the events leading up to Elton, and Rose again, and the all-too-weird Raxacoricofallapatorian relative, aptly named "Abzorbaloff", and Rose one more time. He takes a step back. Clom.   
  
"Clom's gone," he notices, "who'd want Clom?"   
  
"All different sizes, some populated, some not. But all unconnected," she assures.   
  
But he's not so sure, and neither is Donna, who'd be standing out of view thinking it all over at the same fast pace as the Doctor. She thinks about Clom, and why the Doctor’s so disgusted by another being’s planet - their home. And she starts thinking about home, her home, the people she’s met and the lives she’s touched and her thoughts trail to that of Pompeii. And she thinks about Pyrovillia-   
  
"What about Pyrovillia?" She asks, suddenly, the heels of her shoes clicking against the polished floor as she strides over. "Who is the female?" The Architect asks in shock and Donna scoffs. I’ll bloody “female” you in a minute, she thinks - not entirely sure what that entails, the disrespect.   
  
"Donna," she says smugly, "I'm a human being. Maybe not the stuff of legend but every bit as important as Time Lords, thank you."   
  
The Doctor offers her a smile, that's his Donna.   
  
"Way back," Donna begins again after being so rudely interrupted and taking a gander at the chart of holographic planets before her, "when were in Pompeii, Lucius said Pyrovillia had gone missing."   
  
"Pyrovillia is cold case," one Judoon musters, "not relevant."   
  
"How do you mean, cold case?" She knows what the term means, thank you very much, she rather enjoyed her crime documentaries and dramas before she started travelling the universe, but she's baffled as to how it applies here.   
  
"The planet Pyrovillia cannot be part of this," the Architect offers, "it disappeared over two thousand years ago."   
  
"Yeah, yeah, hang on," Donna says, piecing it together and casting silence with the point of her finger, "but there's the Adipose breeding planet, too. Miss Foster said that was lost, but that must've been a long time ago."  
  
The Doctor smacks his forehead, an act of recognising pure brilliance not at his own hands or credited as his own genius but much too late. This time Donna gets the honour, and he grins at her. Pure brilliance. That's his Donna, he thinks again. "That's it, Donna!" He bounces excitedly, leaning towards the holographic chart and pressing buttons at a speed only Donna could catch up with, "Brilliant. Planets are being taken out of time as well as space, let's put this into 3D."   
  
"Let's add Pyrovillia and Adipose Three," he says and the missing planets that Donna had brought to attention start to fill the room, take their place in the holographic chart, and the Architect is left stunned at it all. But the Doctor furrows his brows. "There's something missing."   
  
"Where else, where else, where else? Where else lost, lost, lost, lost. Oh!" And it comes to him, like a light bulb going on atop his head. "The Lost Moon of Poosh!"   
  
The planets reorganise themselves with the last sphere added and the Architect is, once again, left astounded. "What did you do?" She demands an answer, but the Doctor looks at her simply. "Nothing," he says, "the planets rearranged themselves into the optimum pattern." He pauses, he smiles at the creation, astonished. "Oh, look at that. Twenty seven planets in perfect balance. Come on, that is _gorgeous_."

Donna pulls him back in with a tut. "Oi, don't get all spaceman," she warns unapologetically, "what does it mean?"   
  
"All those worlds fit together," he offers, "like pieces of an engine. It's like a powerhouse. What for?" And then it hits him. "Who could design such a thing?"   
  
The Architect asks. And he doesn't answer directly, he worms around it at the prayer that it can't be true.   
  
"Someone tried to move the Earth once before. Long time ago. But it can't be."   
  
It’s a subtle feeling within his chest, pressing against both his hearts in a tug of war, a feeling that confirms his worst fears - that it can be.   
  


* * *

  
"The Valiant's down," Jack grits out, after overhearing the Daleks chanting "Exterminate," and "Maximum extermination" after an injured captain musters that the shields are down, they're being overrun with swarms of Daleks, and to abandon ship. Jack clenches his fist, abandoning ship will get them nowhere. They're dead, he thinks, and he's so sorry.   
  
"Air force retreating over North Africa," Ianto notifies, "Daleks landing in Japan."   
  
"We've lost contact with the Prime Minister's plane," Gwen realises, "Jack! Manhattan."   
  
"Martha," Jack utters into the phone, gritting his teeth together as dread overwhelms him, "get out of there."   
  
"I can't, Jack," she disobeys, phone between shoulder and ear as she bandages a wounded man's head, "I've got a job to do."   
  
"They're targeting military bases," he argues. He can't lose another friend, not now, and not after Rose. And he knows, he knows, she's tucked away - safely? He can't say for sure - in another universe, but he'd be lying to the entire world if he wasn't praying for her return. "You're next on the list."   
  
Martha shudders, imperceptibly all the same, but she brushes it off. She always does, holding the weight of the world on her shoulders. People first, Martha second. She's drawn out of the conversation when Sanchez demands for Doctor Jones to accompany him on march and she gives the injured man a pat on the shoulder and wishes him a speedy recovery and to take care, before standing to attention.   
  
"Project Indigo is being activated. Quick march."   
  
They leave the room and Martha fusses with her belt to keep herself in the now. "But we can't use Project Indigo," she says, sure of herself, "it hasn't been tested, sir. We don't even know if it works." He ignores her and she huffs, back to square one with no answers or replies. "Put it on," he orders, " fast as you can."   
  
Jack's voice buzzes through the phone. "Martha, I'm telling you. Don't use Project Indigo. It's not safe."   
  
Martha's scared, hell, she's terrified. She doesn't want to do this. Not because of what it may do to her, but the consequences it might have for the people around her and she's hesitant to move forward with the plan. But her superior's not. "You take your orders from UNIT, Doctor Jones, not Torchwood," he says and she puts on the backpack.   
  
"But why me?"   
  
"You're our only hope of finding the Doctor," he answers, and Martha understands, she's an expert in hope. "But failing that, if no help is coming, then with the power invested in me by the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, I authorise you to take this. The Osterhagen Key."   
  
He hands her a computer chip and she glares at it, she doesn't dare touch it. Not yet, at least.   
  
"I can't take that sir," she refuses, and Jack beams on the other end.   
  
"You know what to do, for the sake of the human race."   
  
She huffs restlessly. "Just," she begins, finding her words, "promise me one thing."   
  
"You're saving the world, Martha Jones, anything. What is it?"   
  
"Doctor Jones, sir, and make sure Suzanne gets home to her family safe."   
  
The Lieutenant General fits the computer chip into the palm of her hand and folds her fingers to cover it, he salutes. She considers it, thinks it selfish of her to pick out one life amongst many others. But at least one life would make it out of this, one life is more than none, and she makes sure it’s a good one.   
  
"And that you all try your hardest to get out of this alive. I expect to hear from you soon, you hear me?"   
  
"Of course, Doctor Jones, quick march. Good luck."   
  
She salutes in return, Lieutenant General Sanchez giving the soldier beside him brandishing a gun a quick squeeze of his shoulder and a salute before slipping the other way to fulfil Martha's wishes. The soldier lifts his gun before the Dalek chants "exterminate" and he is swallowed in a blue light that exposes nothing but his bones. He falls to the ground and Martha witnesses it all. And blames herself. But there's nothing more she can do than what she is ordered. "Bye, Jack," she apologises, hearing out the utter begging from Jack for her not to go ahead with the order cutting through before she closes her eyes in fear, grips the two ripcords on the backpack she was ordered to put on, and pulls.   
  
"Don't!" Jack begs, and before long he can hear nothing and his heart aches. He knows it comes with his life, living on while everyone he loves eventually passes and he's thankful of the short amount of time he may spend with them in comparison to his long never-ending story. But that doesn't mean his heart doesn't ache. He longs for the warmth and friendship and the hope, gallons of hope, that Martha exudes.   
  
But it's too late for that.   
  
"What's Project Indigo?" Ianto asks.   
  
"Experimental teleport salvaged from the Sontarans," he explains, and Gwen and Ianto wonder why every isn't okay, "but they haven't got coordinates. Or stabilisation."   
  
"So where is she?" Gwen asks. Hurt, bleeding out?   
  
"Scattered into atoms." Not the answer she was expecting. "Martha's down."   
  


* * *

  
"Okay," Noah starts, figuring things out. He sits comfortably on his seat but ironically is always on edge. He grips the lever and readies himself to pull it toward him. "Okay, so, hypers-"   
  
"No!" Jenny rushes in, moving his hand away and Noah retracts like his hand has been burnt. "We need to reserve power."   
  
"What for?" Noah asks, and Jenny is thankful that he has never met nor heard of the Daleks, but curses at the lack of experience.   
  
"We even get close to that ship, they'll detect us immediately and we'll be shot down."   
  
"Blimey."   
  
"Exactly. We reserve our power supply, we go slow, we use as little power as possible until we get up there. Then," she says, fidgeting with her hands to explain the plan, just like her dad, "we become undetectable. Enough power to last us until we board the ship with some power in reserve for a nice quick and clean getaway."   
  
"But that's too much," he argues, "becoming undetectable and reserving power like that means all systems down when we get close. Freezing, losing oxygen. We've never done that before."   
  
She huffs, blowing a stray strand of hair from her face. "It's a risk we're gonna have to take! Life's all about risks."   
  
"I suppose."   
  
"If we can't find Dad right off the bat we go in there and we-" she pauses, collating her thoughts, she dragged Noah along for this and he's so steadfast and loyal beside her but she will not cost him his life, so she corrects herself, "I destroy it from the inside."   
  
And Jenny wants to punch him and hug him both at the same time she's so unbelievably mad at herself, and that will only increase if he gets hurt.   
  
"We," he corrects, and she sobs.   
  


* * *

  
“Supreme Dalek on the bridge," one, regular and bronze, Dalek announces, the luminosity dischargers lighting up as it speaks. There's chants heard throughout the crucible at the announcement, ones of praise and the Supreme Dalek, all red on its hard casing and gold adorning the sensory globes and extra pieces jutted out, makes its entrance. It's bionic eye-stalk glows a earthly blue as it stares down the army before it.   
  
"Soon the Crucible will be complete," it announces and the Daleks chant again in celebration, "we have waited long for this ultimate destiny. Now the Daleks are the masters of Earth."   
  
They begin to float, the under part of their hoverpads glowing the same blue as the eyestalk, and the luminosity dischargers all light at the same time as they repeat the saying in unison. "Daleks are the masters of Earth," they say, "Daleks are the masters of Earth.”   
  
"Commence the landings, bring the humans here, prepare the Crucible," the Supreme Dalek cuts in, continuing to order and the bronze Daleks around it take no hesitation in following them.   
  
"Supreme Dalek, is there news?" A voice crackles elsewhere, croaky and hoarse and unearthly.   
  
"Earth has been subjugated."   
  
The voice belongs to a humanoid figure, whose body sits in the lower half of a Dalek casing. The silver jutting out is adorned with buttons and tech and he moves a robotic hand forward to caress them. "I mean," he explains, "is there news of him?"   
  
"Negative," it says, "no reports of Time Lord. We are beyond the Doctor's reach."   
  
The plan is coming together, it realises.   
  
"Fascinating," he smiles and it is nothing warm, "if I had not elevated you beyond crude emotions, I could almost mistake that tone for one of victory."   
  
The Supreme Dalek is silent.   
  
"Beware your pride," the voice warns.   
  
"The Doctor cannot stop us," it argues back, and the voice flicks a switch that was placed amongst the tech with his robotic hand.   
  
"And yet," he says, "Dalek Caan is uneasy."   
  
Light swallows up the chained remains of a Dalek casing, whose mutant inside is active and cackling. It's tentacles curl up around the gooey exposed layer and the Supreme Dalek stares it down in a look of what a bystander might call disgust. "The abomination is insane," it argues back to the voice. There is no hesitating with a response.   
  
"Show respect," he demands, "without Dalek Caan, none of this would be possible. And he speaks only the truth."   
  
"He is coming," Caan cackles, "the threefold man. He dances in the lonely places. Oh, creator of us all, the Doctor is coming."   
  


* * *

  
"You need sustenance," a white-haired, pink eyed young woman says, and Donna is pulled out of her trance of pounding heartbeats and her focus moves from the Doctor and the Architect conferring to the woman before her offering a tray. "Take the water," she suggests, "it purifies."   
  
She does so, lifting it up in cheers. "Thanks," she says, taking a much needed sip.   
  
"There was something on your back." Donna stands at this, facing the woman. She doesn't want to scare her, but it can't be helped when she's terrified herself. "How do you know that?" She queries.   
  
The woman is clearly one for cryptic replies, Donna mentally notes. "You are something new," she simply says.   
  
Donna rubs her hand over her face, gathering sleep out of her eyes, before brushing fingers through unkempt hair. She needs sleep, she thinks, or another week at that Spa resort. "Not me," she sighs, sitting back down and cursing to herself at the outburst, "I'm just a temp. Shorthand," she explains, though she's sure that the woman will just reply with another cryptic sentence, "filing, hundred words per minute. Fat lot of good that is now. I'm no use to anyone."   
  
"I'm so sorry for your loss," she replies and Donna smiles thankfully. At least that makes sense.   
  
"Yeah," Donna nods, "my whole planet's gone."   
  
"I mean the loss that is yet to come. God save you."   
  
Never mind, Donna thinks, watching as the woman makes a quick getaway up the stairs she sits on. She frowns, but her attentions pulled to the Doctor who is suddenly facing her out of nowhere, glaring her down. "Donna, come on, think," he says and Donna just blinks away her shock. "Earth. There must've been some sort of warning. Was anything happening back in your day, like electrical storms, freak weather, patterns in the sky?"   
  
"Well, how should I know? Er," she takes a moment to think, "no. I don't think so, no." Nothing exactly comes to mind about the unusual when that's all your world has come to be. "Okay," he says, lips forming into a thin line, "never mind."   
  
"Although," she says suddenly and the Doctor spins so fast it almost makes her dizzy, "there were the bees disappearing."   
  
"The bees disappearing?" He asks and she shrugs, not her best answer. Until it hits him. "The bees disappearing. The bees disappearing!"   
  
The architect interrupts with a stutter and raising a bony finger to silence them. "How is that significant?" She asks and the Doctor and Donna share a look, a toothy grin. Always questioning the unknown, the mad, the simple.   
  
"On Earth we had these insects," Donna explains, vaguely gesturing with her hands, "some people said it was pollution or mobile phone signals."   
  
"Or," the Doctor offers, and Donna tilts her head in confusion, "they were going back home."   
  
"Back home where?"   
  
"Planet Melissa Majoria."   
  
She wants to smack him. He has to be joking, she's sure of it. "Are you seriously saying bees are aliens?"   
  
He scoffs, giving her a look. "Don't be so daft," he says, "not all of them. But if the migrant bees felt something coming, some sort of danger, and escaped? Tandocca."  
  
"The Tandocca Scale," the Architect realises. There's silence between them and Donna just glares, raising her hands for them to explain. "Tandocca Scale is the series of wavelengths used as a carrier signal by migrant bees. Infinitely small, no wonder we didn't see it, it's like looking for a speck of cinnamon in the Sahara."   
  
She glares at him to get on with it.   
  
"But look, there it is. The Tandocca trail. The transmat that moved the planets was using the same wavelength, we can follow the path."   
  
"And find the Earth?" Donna beams, "well stop talking, and do it!"   
  
He grins back. "I am," he says. They move back to their home, the TARDIS, with the Architect and the Judoon Platoon hot on their heels. He clicks the doors open and they bounce about the console as the Doctor finds his way with the work. "We're a bit late," he grimaces, "the signal's scattered, but it's a start." He pops his head out the TARDIS door to find the platoon and the Architect facing him. "I've got a blip," he musters with a grin, "it's just a blip, but it's definitely a blip."   
  
"Then according to the Strictures of the Shadow Proclamation," she begins, hands held closely together and the Doctor looks at her quizzically, "I will have to seizure your transport and your technology."   
  
"What for?" He asks, but show's no emotion as to not give his game away. She looks at him as if the answer is obvious.   
  
"The planets were stolen with hostile intent. We are declaring war, Doctor, right across the universe. You will lead us into battle."   
  
Never again, he thinks, but he's smiling. "Course I will," he lies, " I'll just go and get you the key." He slips back in, shutting the door, and the Architect knew she never should have trusted the clear lie as the box begins to materialise.   
  
"Doctor, come back!" She orders, "by the Holy Writ of the Shadow Proclamation, I order you to stop!"  
  


* * *

  
It's on a gritty street corner where Wilf and Sylvia take their places, watching on as a mass of people flock to one side and a grating voice orders about threateningly. There's one family jutted out amongst the rest and Wilf prays for them. "All humans will leave their homes," it orders as the rest make their way to the huddle, "the males, the females, the descendants. You will come with us. Resistance is useless."   
  
"Where are you taking us?" The father of the family standing out asks with about as much ferociousness as he can muster.   
  
"Daleks do not answer human questions," it says. Daleks, Wilf notes. "Stand in line."   
  
"Dad please," Sylvia says, drawing his attention away. She's tugging on his coat and is buried in him, she's not held him like this since she was a child. "Come home," she begs, "they're leaving our street alone."   
  
"Yeah," he says sorrowfully, "I've got a weapon." And he's not too proud of that, brandishing a gun. He never killed anyone during the war, why start now?   
  
"It's a paint gun," she reminds him bitterly, and Wilf sends a prayer of thanks. Holding it, feeling it fit under his touch pulled him back too far. Exactly why he picked this weapon, no killing, only weak spots.   
  
"Exactly," he says thankfully, "them Dalek things, they've only got one eye. A good splodge of paint, they'd be blinded."   
  
Wilf keeps his eye on Sylvia a moment more until he hears the father shout. "We're not going," he refuses, "do you hear me? Laura, get back inside the house. Simon, get inside. Go!" He orders, following his family inside backwards, lifting the nearest loose brick and hurling it at the Dalek. "Get back in the sky!" He growls, making a run for it at the clanging. "Get back where you came from and leave us alone!" He's begging now, and he takes one last look at the flock of people huddling together in fear before joining his wife and son inside their home. One Dalek takes a good look at it.   
  
"Dalek attack formation seven," it says, and they line up, "maximum extermination."   
  
The house goes up in flames.   
  
"They're monsters," Wilf trembles, and he curls in on himself. He's seen this all before.   
  
Sylvia pulls him back in, hand forming around his wrist. "Please, dad," she begs again, "come home."   
  
He nods. Okay, he thinks, and they leave. He pushes the paint gun in front of him, struggling with the strap on his shoulder. A lone Dalek stands before them and Wilf's heart races. "Halt," it demands, "you will come with me." He's done all this before, and he furrows his brows. Absolutely not. "Will I heck," he says, and fires a splodge of the yellow paint right onto it's eyestalk. Wilf smiles victoriously, but it's gone as fast as it came as the the splodge evaporates before him. "My vision is not impaired," it says, and Sylvia bites at him with "I warned you, dad." They don't have much time to collate themselves before the Dalek continues. "Hostility will not be tolerated," it warns, "exterminate, exterminate, exter-"   
  
It explodes.   
  
And behind it stands a woman. Confident in her stance, tense and wartorn in her gaze. Gone are the days of making Daleks want freedom, showing mercy for the Daleks. She has seen all of time and space within her head, and the moment of mercy was just a blip in a long life. She has the capability to repeat, but the circumstances never arrive. They do not listen, they hate, they hate, they hate. And they are merciless in their destruction. She asserts herself and thinks, not on my watch. But the old man and middle aged woman don’t know that of her, all they see - holding a paintball gun close to themselves - is a woman brandishing a gun. So he jokes, asks her if she wants to swap, and she smiles (drastic times, a laugh is needed) but that’s besides the point. She knows them.   
  
“Donna Noble’s family, right?” she asks, eyebrows raised quizzically. They nod and she’s ever so thankful.   
  
“I’m Rose Tyler,” she announces, firm in her place, “and I need you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u know the drill! comments keep me writing and kudos are much appreciated!! 
> 
> @bannermanroad (new @!) on twitter  
@jakesimmonds on tumblr :))
> 
> ill post the new chapter on wattpad at some point ! its @blenniidaee
> 
> also i know noah has like . a face claim but i really imagine his fc in this as james from derry girls? so vibe with that ig? anyway i was going to write episodes in two parts but i vastly underestimated this so this (and probably all finales in general?) will be more than two parts. the stolen earth will probs finish as a 3 or 4 parter so i hope thats not too bothersome!
> 
> ANYWAY current world situation gives me time to write so i though id get this out now. my college works being assessed online so ill still be busy w college all week but ill update when i can :-) thanks for reading again i love u all so much!


	5. Author Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catch up. This will be deleted in due time.

Hi readers!

Sorry for the long awaited update, sadly it's not a continuation of the fic - just an author update :[  
I technically finished my course last month but I'd been a bit busy, and now that I officially am free of responsibilities (for now) and my mental health is improving I can get back to working on Stuff of Legends and other fics! Sorry for the hiatus! However I'm not really happy with this fic as it is and I feel like its format might be draining for readers so I wanted to ask. Should I avoid it being dialogue and scene accurate (where possible, other than purposefully changed/deleted/added) and just go ham with my own creation or would you prefer it being like so? I thought it'd be helpful when fitting Rose into the story but it's just a lot to write and the fics end up being written like Classic Who serials which I know is not everyones cup of tea. I might consider rewriting from the beginning, the only part I'm mostly happy with is the second chapter and I think that's because I wasn't tied to screen accuracy.

Please let me know :-)

Cheers!


	6. Author Update #2

Hey all.

Thanks to those who gave me feedback, I've took into consideration and I love you all for the support. I'm going to rewrite what I have - if I was further along I wouldn't but considering I'm only part way through the Stolen Earth I'm at the best place to start rewriting. I'm not really happy with it thus far apart from the second chapter because my creativity has been stunned at the process of making sure the scenes that played out in correspondence to actual canon were screen accurate, while the second chapter was my own creation with no limits. And, I think, writing this while under college stress was not the best for me either. Now that I've finished college I have no stress for any of this, and I'll be taking my time with uploads and not pressuring myself with deadlines, but I will be getting started ASAP. 

The chapters won't be deleted, as the rush of comments I have been receiving mean the world to me and I don't want to risk losing something that keeps me going writing wise. Your support means so much. I will edit the contents of these chapters with the new work (and will do this in one go so it doesn't read weird - therefore the update might take a while) & delete these author updates when the time comes.

Thank you again for the support!

See you when the time comes - I'm @bannermanroad on twitter if you ever want to hang!

**Author's Note:**

> spontaneous updates cause 1. college is stressful and 2. ive not actually written the whole thing yet. this gonna be a MASSIVE wip. ive written everything out of order like a fool (so far its been a good man goes to war -> the stolen earth -> flesh and stone -> excerpt from forest of the dead -> doomsday. and by written i mean edited the script. doomsday is the only thing ive properly written for this so far i am A MESS)
> 
> anyway come scream at me on twitter or tumblr (@royallingstones or @missrosemariontyler respectively) xo  
kudos appreciated and comments v v much appreciated they keep me writing!!


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